Why I wrote Rebel Aging

I didn’t set out to write a book.

I set out to thrive as I age. And by that, I don’t mean just get by.

Actually, I'm a pretty serious kind of crone.

Not the number. Not the birthday cakes or bifocals (in my case, trifocals) or the box-checking moment where you slide down into the "60+" category.

No, I set out to overcome the inner noise. The shrinking. The slow erosion of self that so many of us—especially women—feel when the world stops looking our way. And one way I processed it? I wrote.

Blog after blog. Post after post. Observations. Rants. Little epiphanies wrapped in sass. Over time, I realized: I wasn’t just venting. I was mapping new terrain. Testing the edges of what it means to grow older in power—with wisdom, yes, and with wonder. And let's be honest: a few shenanigans.

Rebel Aging was born from that stockpile of thoughts. A kind of accidental roadmap pulled from years of personal excavation. I wanted to see the patterns. I wanted to name the truths. But most of all, I wanted to offer it back—to us—in a more thoughtful, cohesive way.

Because aging isn't the end of the story. It's the start of something potent. And weird. And wild. And wise.

So here’s to us, the Rebels. To the ones still growing, still glowing, still causing just enough trouble to stay interesting.

After more than a year, the book is out now. And the revolution’s just getting started.

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